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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874811">like a wearied lamb lies panting there</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales'>gabriphales</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Gang Rape, Graphic Description, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Hurt No Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Whump, a good use for that tag bc holy shit why did i write this, but not rlly gabes the only one doing any fucking the others r just. bad emotional support</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:47:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>in celebration of aziraphale's new role - crowned the guardian of eden - the archangels give him one last gift before departure</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale (Good Omens)/Other(s), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), i am not listing all the fucking archangels ok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>like a wearied lamb lies panting there</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i wrote this in a fucking fevered state listening to nothing but igor fucking stravinskys rite of spring and on god i hope it shows, title is from shakespeare's poem <i>the rape of lucrece,</i> good motherfucking morning im writing this before going back to bed hope u all have fun</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"a celebration's overdue," michael smiles, all teeth, thin-lipped. aziraphale counts the seconds between her breath, then the minutes between her outstretched hand, and the moment he takes it. all the other archangels are rooting him on, uriel grins like they’ve gone overblissed with the evening’s supper - all sunflower petals, and rosewater drink - and sandalphon pats him on his back. gabriel is waiting for him down at the pavilion, lounging until sundown. he’d been so <i>excited</i> to hear of aziraphale’s new role, the sole, <i>trusted</i> guardian of eden. chosen by god herself, as all matters of fate are. before his send-off, they want to enjoy their temporary moments of company with him, and who is he to deny that? surely, nothing out of place could occur. nothing unwanted by the almighty herself.</p><p>she is in charge, after all.</p><p>the flowers in the nearby meadows are still wilting, frozen by the wicked angels’ fall. aziraphale doesn’t take the time to dwell on it. air catches in his throat, drifts like an ice spring song, and he tries to suck it down before he can choke on it. he remembers how kind things had been before this - this cruel, cold world. how the almighty could abandon any of her children, even those who had chosen to abandon her, is beyond him. why give the choice of free will, if only to punish those who indulge in it? then again, aziraphale is quite certain he’s not meant to question that. better to keep his mind on the task at hand, focus on what really matters, and stay <i>calm.</i> he is calm - as michael guides him through the thick, lush fields, ignoring while he stumbles all the way, cracking skin open on twigs and rocks, he’s <i>calm.</i> there’s nothing to fret over. nothing to stress himself on.</p><p>a river flows over, intrepid and overripe in her courage, and aziraphale threatens to slip on the shallow brook’s pebbles. michael stares back at him, and there’s a slip of judgement in her gaze. aziraphale makes sure to keep steady.</p><p>he wouldn’t want to disappoint her - or anyone, for that matter.</p><p>uriel is there to soothe him when they need to take a five minute break. the walk is long, and aziraphale is easily wrought with soreness. tender in his freshly-crafted flesh. there’s stones in his mouth, it seems, by the weight that holds down his tongue. and iron in his chest, curved around his lungs, his heart - dare he say it, he might just be suffocating when they smile down at him, all bronze brown eyes, and curved, pleasant lips. </p><p>“just another few miles, and we’ll meet with him soon. i’m certain you can make it.” they say, far more optimistic than he. even so, aziraphale doesn’t want to disappoint them. he clambers onto an unsteady pace, and doesn’t stop short until white marble is in sight. the pavilion is gorgeous, everything a holy sight ought to be. decorated in sheer curtains, a gauze that just barely keeps gabriel’s form from view. even so, aziraphale can still make out his silhouette. thick and muscular, made of stone - if only in metaphor, then metaphor serves aziraphale well. his insecurity gets the better of him, and he stumbles. sandalphon is there to catch him by his arm, rustling the joint with a rigid creak. he pulls him forwards, and says, “come on now, not much longer.”</p><p>somehow, aziraphale starts to doubt this was the right choice.</p><p>the air is chill and unsteady. passing by in a breeze that denies itself rhythm. aziraphale tries to keep track of it, and fails - as expected. he’s always been so <i>excellent</i> at failing, well, everything. it’s a miracle he’s even been chosen in the first place. and far be it for him to doubt god, but he has to wonder, why <i>him</i>? out of all angels, great and strong, tall and formidable, why soft-bodied, small-statured, little old him? he would much rather see gabriel out on the front lines, serving his duties with pride. not that aziraphale wouldn’t do just as much! it’s just that - <i>just that</i> - well, he has so little faith in himself. and who can blame him? pitiful as he is, hardly reckoned to be an angel, and certainly not made of tough enough meat to make a proper demon.</p><p>if he could ask god one question, daring and full of assumption, he might ask her why he was ever created at all.</p><p>“look, we’re nearly there,” michael smiles, directing aziraphale’s attention to white stone, a chilling infrastructure, now within a few steps view. </p><p>uriel takes him by his wrist, and pulls him forwards. their curls bounce with every movement, highlighted beneath the golden sun. “it’ll be <i>exciting,</i> don’t you think? he said he’s got something special prepared, just for you.”</p><p>there’s rosemary in the distance, the fresh trails of morning glory and ivy along the vine. they line the entrance to the pavilion. aziraphale reaches out to pluck a blossom, and he’s stopped at the wrist. sandalphon is guiding him inwards. there’s no time to waste, he ought to make use of his limbs, steadfast and sturdy.</p><p>gabriel turns to face him - well, really, he turns to face their whole lot, but something spikes in his eyes that seems to address aziraphale solely. he may see the others, but he's only looking at aziraphale.</p><p>aziraphale trembles.</p><p>“you're here, finally.” he smiles, curving his lips a little awkwardly, still getting used to the new motion. </p><p>michael sighs, “it took some convincing, and you know how he is - a little <i>slow,</i> at times.” </p><p>aziraphale tries to apologize, nervous and slipping over his words like fingers gripping cold ice. “i - didn't mean to - “</p><p>gabriel claps his hands together, and the resounding sound is enough to make him flinch. “well, there's no issue now. come along, i've got something to show you.” </p><p>he starts off down a thin, barely walkable path. crowded, stuffed to the brim with lush bushes, flowering plants on either side. aziraphale is entranced temporarily, with gabriel reaching back, grabbing hold of his hand to lead him along in single file. michael is behind him, drawing the pace taut, quicker than it needs to be. even so, aziraphale is enjoying himself. how could he not? rows of white daisies line in blooming bouquets everywhere he looks. golden flowers, with petals that drip a honey-sweet, sun-bright nectar. dashes of pink intersperse between the many blossoms; small carnations, as gabriel calls them. it's a beautiful sight to behold, one of the most beautiful aziraphale has seen yet. and the air smells so faintly of something <i>delightful. </i>though he wouldn't know how to place it, were he asked.</p><p>gabriel takes note of his long, sharp inhale, and smiles wider. “do you like that? i can show you where it's coming from.”</p><p>he drags aziraphale off-course, taking him from the flat dirt path. grass tickles at his ankles, and the slick, soft mud almost seems like it might swallow him whole, if he dares lose footing. the other archangels are trailing behind them, but gabriel is the only thing aziraphale can focus on. he feels rather like prodded cattle, tugged along at one end, and pushed forwards at the other. but when he does happen to trip, it's into absolute <i>heaven</i> - quite literally, he supposes. gabriel lets him fall, watching as he plants into an array of dazzling, scarlet red flowers. a deeper, rich shade circles the center, and yellow seeds dot in uniform shape. aziraphale wipes his eyes from the pollen that’s already dusted his vision, and takes another sweet breath - oh, that's <i>lovely. </i></p><p>“gabriel,” he murmurs, trying to make out his surprisingly blurry silhouette as he sits beside him. come to think of it, everything's gone a tad bit softer around the edges now. aziraphale’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth, it's difficult to speak, but he finds he doesn't mind it. rather, it's like swimming through a blissful dream, pushing against warm waters. he rubs his eyes again, and he can hear gabriel laughing - is it at him, he wonders. has he done something wrong again, made a fool of himself? he hopes he hasn't, he’s beyond the constitution it takes to feel shame. shivering, he startles at the pull of gabriel’s arm around him, pulling him close ‘til his head finds his chest, and he can't hold back, he's grown so <i>tired,</i> after all.</p><p>“g’briel,” aziraphale slurs, leaning into him further. “this all feels rather nice. is this - this how you wanted to reward me?”</p><p>gabriel laughs once more, deeper, darker than the first time. aziraphale’s expression twists with confusion, but gabriel seems to like that, if the gentle cup of his palm against aziraphale’s cheek is anything to go by.</p><p>“just wait, sunshine, the best part comes next.” he drawls slowly, fingers trailing up aziraphale’s leg as he speaks. aziraphale feels dizzy with the first touch, his vision clouding even further, unable to focus on the drifting, ticklish sensation. it’s all too light and too much at the same time, and he shuffles slightly, starts to whine. the words for discomfort are beyond him, but the sounds he lets out say all the same. </p><p>“he’s going to take care of you, aziraphale.” sandalphon says, the first of the archangels to speak in <i>goodness knows</i> how long, aziraphale can’t keep track of the time like this. it’s slippery, a hot, fuzzy buzzing in his brain. shaking his head, and blinking his eyes to soften the sting of heat, wet heat - is he <i>crying?</i> - he starts to push gabriel’s hand away. a weak, noncommittal press. it does nothing to deter gabriel from touching him further, slipping up to his thigh, and grasping hold, <i>squeezing</i> around the plump flesh. aziraphale flinches, pulling harder, pressing his hands into the grass and trying to drag himself away. just like that, the others close in around him. helping gabriel steady him in his lap, legs knocked apart, and suddenly <i>spread.</i> held down by his ankles, one in michael’s grip, the other in uriel’s.</p><p>this all feels wrong now, terribly, achingly wrong. and though aziraphale doesn’t have reason to make sense of <i>why</i> it’s wrong, he just <i>knows.</i> somehow, he knows he doesn’t want this. just like the first time he’d slipped in cool waters, and cut his palms on the river stones below. sharp and jagged, they’d left him bruised, aching long after the dripping crimson subsided. he tries to struggle, gasps out against them, and even pleads, “r-really, now, i appreciate all the effort you’ve gone to, but i think i must - i must be heading off soon. i don’t - something isn’t right, it must be me, i’m sure, nothing you’ve done wrong, i simply - <i>simply</i> - “</p><p>he’s snapped off from the sentence with a cruel bite of a kiss, gabriel’s teeth sucking into his lower lip. he trembles, pushing at gabriel’s chest, and, in turn, earning himself his hands restrained just as his legs. bound by angelic strength alone, unable to fight back, only scrambling in a desperate fit - he starts to realize just how frail he is compared to his superiors. they can dominate him completely like this, do with him as they see fit. his heady mind swerving to make sense of it all, dipping him underneath rushing waters of panic, an adrenaline-surging stream. sweat prickles on his skin, his curls stick to the nape of his neck, and gabriel swipes a warm tongue up the shivering bank of skin there.</p><p>“please,” aziraphale gulps, tears streaming down his face now, surely dyeing his cheeks a vulgar, ugly red. “i don’t want this.”</p><p>“you haven’t even tried it yet, sweet thing. you’ll like it once i get started, know you will.” gabriel tells him, thumbing at his bottom lip, and gripping his jaw, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “michael, his robes.”</p><p>michael rolls her eyes, “i’m a little busy here, in case you didn’t notice.”</p><p>“he’s a tough fighter when he wants to be,” uriel remarks. “stronger than he thinks he is.”</p><p>and the words well a thicker rush of tears from aziraphale, all he’s ever wanted to hear, a confirmation that they think he’s <i>good enough.</i> but it’s too little, too late, and not the way he wants it. not like this, never like this. he can’t <i>stand it.</i></p><p>“i’ll get him ready,” sandalphon says, tugging aziraphale’s robes by the hem, and exposing pale, lily flesh. a flush rises in his skin at the chill of cool air, and he gives out a few hopeless wiggles, writhing with what little strength hasn’t fallen brittle and soft, faint in his trembling limbs. gabriel makes a sound deep in his throat, pitted with lust, thick and <i>growling</i>. it makes aziraphale cry out, shrieking when gabriel’s fingers grope at his chest, feeling him up. he catches a nipple between two, and starts to twist, wrenching until aziraphale pitifully whimpers, high strung like a wounded pup. taking mercy, gabriel palms at the fat instead, rolling it in his hand, and bouncing it slightly, watching it jiggle. aziraphale wracks heavy with shame, humiliated and guilty, laying still now - for what reason is there to keep trying, when he knows there’s no chance of escape? he needs rest, anyways. his body is going limp, even sicker than before. he can still smell that blasted pollen in the air, and somehow, it’s climbing in strength. weighing his lids down, and keeping him as lax and open as blooming petals.</p><p>gabriel shifts beneath him, and in his daze, aziraphale barely notices when something hard and slick works over his center, thrusting against the soft spot between his legs. aziraphale glances down, he doesn't understand what he sees. his own flesh has been molded, shaped into a visage of gabriel’s making. skin parts for him, and like a needle pricks, something sore and solid starts to bloom in his pelvis. he gasps, shuddering harder, fierce and fevered throughout his body. a body too weak to fight off its own shakes.</p><p>“sir,” he pants, growing increasingly frantic. “sir, i don't think that's a good thing to do.”</p><p>gabriel hums, continuing to ignore him as he pets at his breasts, sinking deeper.</p><p>“please,” gabriel’s hips buck up. “you shouldn't,” he squeezes through the tight fit, popping past a ring of unforgiving muscle. “stop now, please, please - i - o-<i>ow!</i>”</p><p>aziraphale wails with the final press, feeling as a wretched burn passes up through him, all the way to his core. sandalphon grips him by his lovehandles, starts to move him up and down, and gabriel picks up on the rhythm - he’s thrusting now - <i>no!</i></p><p>“tha-at h-hurts, sir,” aziraphale cries, rosewater tears staining his tongue with a dirty salt taste. “i can't - you shouldn't - “</p><p>“aziraphale,” michael’s voice comes firm, unyieldingly steady. “look at me, you're alright.”</p><p>“gabriel is doing something kind for you,” uriel explains. “don't you want to thank him?”</p><p>guilt sours aziraphale’s chest once more, trickling down to his stomach, and making his blood curdle like milk. blinking his eyes as clear as they’re ever going to get, he tries a hand at doing as is asked of him, “yes, my ap-apologies, sir. thank you, thank you so much, so much, s-so much, <i>so</i> - !”</p><p>his voice gives out, tapering off into a quiet stream as the other archangels move closer, surrounding him like a festering swarm. michael takes his face into her hands, smiles and coos at him as she would a freshly-hatched fledgling, and thumbs his wet cheeks in vain hopes of wiping them dry. uriel strokes through his curls, humming a gentle tune, sweet and smooth under their breath. it’s hard to hear over gabriel’s grunting, hard to feel when struck against hot, harried thrusts inside his body, a weight slitting him apart straight down the middle. even sandalphon is doing his best to assuage him, speaking of nothing but how a strong warrior takes, a brave soldier endures, and endures <i>willingly,</i> content to lie down for inevitable pain.</p><p>the words only deepen aziraphale’s ache.</p><p>at some point, amidst the clambering, the hands on his skin, and the grinding, the groping, the physical gyration, he drowsies into a listless state. catatonic and lax, his eyes can finally focus once more. with his head laid back against gabriel’s shoulder, limp as a dead man’s, all he has to see is sky. fluffy clouds on an early morning, lit with yellow frecklings of sun. dawn has barely even settled, the ground seems unwoken, and aziraphale has to wonder if the almighty is sleeping as well. surely, that must be the only reason she’s allowed this to happen. after everything else, all the angels she’s casted away, why would she - <i>how</i> could she?</p><p>but there’s no hope to wake her. even as he prays, breathless and cold, his lips barely moving to let the pleas pass, nothing happens. she never stirs. not for one desperate, aching moment.</p><p>“god, aziraphale,” gabriel groans, hot breath in his ear, sending sharp blades of chill to the root of his spine. “you were made for this, just for this, pleasing me. i’d keep you here if i could, just to have you every single <i>fucking</i> day.”</p><p>his pace harries, stuttering and uncertain, yet unbearably fast as he rocks in deeper. aziraphale could melt into his misery, that horrid feeling of being claimed, <i>owned,</i> only wanted for something that feels so horrible, only needed for what rests between his thighs. gabriel wants him for himself, and gabriel has <i>never</i> been denied, not since the moment of his creation. whatever he desires, he’s given. such is the will of god, after all, she’s never stopped him. aziraphale can do little but scream quietly, a silent rush in the back of his throat. the only noise that comes out is a simpering whine, but even so, that’s enough to send gabriel reeling. he clutches his chest, claws at his bosom until red lines welt and rise on his skin. a new, thicker wetness drips down onto the grass, spilling out from inside the hole gabriel has concaved in him. there’s more kisses to his face, more praise from the archangels, but aziraphale doesn’t hear it. </p><p>all he hears is the faint buzzing of cicadas in the distance, and the sound of the sun - whatever that might be.</p>
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